Sandor sat on the bed in his chambers. It was late now. The king was long asleep, and Sandor long off guard duty. He should be sleeping too; prepared to work soon after the sun rose. But the thoughts of Mina kept his mind racing. He'd gotten her to the boat, he could now only hope that it took her north safely. Wherever she got, it was likely to be safer for her than King's Landing at least. It wasn't safe to be a Northerner in this part of the land anymore—especially not a Stark.

He'd learned after returning to the keep that Sansa had not escaped. Poor girl never had a chance, as her guards and septa were cut down before her feet. They were keeping her in Maegor's Holdfast, where the royal family resided. To most, the idea of the holdfast was something of grandeur, but he knew they would make it a frightening cage for the poor little bird. He'd do what he could to spare the girl, but he knew the king was out for blood.

He was glad Mina at least would be safe. Still, for now it didn't help much to ease how much he missed her. Her smile, her smell, her face, her laugh… everything about her was perfect to him, and he'd said she loved him. Love. Not since his mother died had anyone uttered those words to him. And the fool that he was, he said nothing in return. He was too much a coward to tell her he felt the same.

A knock on the door drew his attentions away from the thoughts of the girl he'd left on the docks and to a sound from the barrack's halls.

"Clegane, the king command's your presence in the great hall immediately!" The voice boomed, but didn't wait for a reply. Boot steps thundered away.

Sandor quickly dressed himself in his leather armour. A worry grew in his chest, had someone seen him with the girl? For him to be summoned at this hour, something must be wrong. If they knew what he'd done, he was as good as dead. He fastened the scabbard of his greatsword tight to his side. If for some reason he were to die today, he wouldn't go down easy.

Sandor walked into the great hall only to find it empty. The swords that made up the iron throne seemed particularly ominous in the silent darkness of this night. The servants who might have serviced this room would be asleep now, but the candles they had lit earlier still illuminated the room. The warm glow they added seemed false and wrong in this cold and menacing room.

Just when he thought he could wait no longer for his impending judgement, Sandor heard the sound of footsteps coming from the hall behind the throne. He knew one set must belong to the king; perhaps the other would be his executioner. He gripped the hilt of his greatsword, sheathed at his side, as he stared, waiting at the mangled metal throne. If I die today, it was all worth it. She was worth it, he told himself.

Shadows emerged from the hall. King Joffrey came first, followed by his mother and the old Barristan Selmy.

Seven Hells. The man was by far the oldest of the kingsguard, but he was still the best swordsman of them all. Even with his advantage in size and age, Sandor wasn't sure he stood much of a chance against the great Barristan, should the king order the man to execute Sandor.

Before Sandor could think much of it, the king spoke with a toothy smile. "Dog. Good, you're here." He stopped for a moment to look at the aging white cloak beside him, "Ser Barristan, you may tell Commander Slynt that I am ready to receive him now."

The man walked off with a slight bit of annoyance down the hall as Sandor stood with the king and his mother, waiting for an explanation of why he'd been summoned.

"The old man is losing it, but I'll find a way to replace him." Joffrey said in an eerily happy voice. He spoke quietly to the company at hand, but his words echoed down the long chamber regardless. "I've summoned you to act as my bodyguard during this meeting with the commander. Slynt sent word that the city watch had found something I might find of importance."

"It had better be important, to demand a sitting with the king at this ridiculous hour" the queen regent said before a feigned yawn. Despite her attempts to look disinterested and tired, her clothes spoke something different. She still wore the clothes she'd worn all day, yet she didn't look tired in the slightest. Sandor wondered if she ever slept, or had learned to stay awake all night plotting the fates of all around her. Thus far, she'd always trusted Sandor with the lives of her children. Should her opinions of him change, he knew he would be in for trouble.

As Barristan disappeared in the darkness of the long hall, the king continued, "I couldn't have a man as ancient as Ser Barristan seen acting as my only guard. Imagine how weak that would make me look…"

Sandor nodded at the royal family, but his attentions were firmly on the sound of boot steps coming back up the hall. Ser Barristan returned to his spot beside Sandor and the king as the commander of the watch approached the throne. Sandor had always hated that eel of a man, but the way he grinned on this night made him even more despicable.

From the shadows, two gold cloaks emerged behind him. Between the pair, they held a girl in a torn black dress, her face obscured by a burlap sack placed over her head. Drips of water fell from her rags and tangles of brown hair, as Sandor felt his stomach flip. He knew that dress and the body it clung to, but still—it couldn't be her. She'd made it to the boats, he'd seen to it.

"Apologies for calling you at such a late hour, Your Grace," the frog-faced commander flourished with a smirk of his jowls. "But I thought you might want to hear about this matter immediately."

The guards behind the man stepped forward, dragging their prisoner along with them. "Good evening, Your Grace," one spoke as he bowed to the king, "We was out patrolling along the Iron Gate and heard a big commotion. We went to sees what was the matter and pulled this one out of the ocean. We think it might be one of 'em Stark traitors you was looking for. Her face is a bit puffy from the water, but she looks a bit like her."

The commander cleared his throat authoritatively with a wicked smile. "These guards brought the matter to me, and I thought it best for you to confirm whether it was the girl or not, immediately. I know how personal this is for you."

"You were right to do that, Commander. Let me see for myself if what you believe is true."

Sandor watched as the king smiled in anticipation. The commander nodded to the men, who removed the brown sack from the girl's head and what Sandor already knew to be true was confirmed, the dripping rag of a girl was Mina.

Her face grimaced as the bag was torn off her head, her eyes adjusting to the room. Sandor watched as she took the gravity of her situation into account. It took every will he had to resist the urge to run to the girl.

"Welcome home, Lady Mina." The sickening smile on the king's face grew, "We're so pleased you've returned to us."

Mina remained quiet and stoic as beads of water continued to drip from her ruined dress. The slow drips onto the floor were the only sound that came from the girl; the noise was so loud in the silence, Sandor felt as though it filled the room.

Suddenly, the guard who had spoken earlier yanked on her arm causing her to wince. It was the first crack in her fragile armour, but Sandor knew more would follow. "The king has spoken to you, girl. Use your highborn manners in his presence," Slynt sneered.

Sandor expected her to curtsey, or nod or do something, but she stood still, staring off into the distance behind the sharpened tips of the iron throne.

"That's alright, gentlemen." Joffrey spoke once more, his voice echoing throughout the chamber as if he spoke to a crowd of hundreds. "Lady Mina is our honoured guest this evening. And perhaps she'd be so kind to enlighten us as to what she was doing in the bay at this hour, or how she found herself there, instead of in her room, like a good little lady."

Mina's lack of a response angered the guards further, causing one of them to squeeze her arm tightly. From the look in her eyes, Sandor could see how it hurt her, and yet he was powerless to stop it. He'd never seen this guard before—the greasy-haired, pock marked prick of a man—but someday he would make him pay for this.

"Well, Lady Mina," Joffrey echoed, "It seems both traitors blood and stupidity runs in your veins. Perhaps joining your father for some time in the dungeons will loosen your tongue some."

Sandor paled at the thought of Mina spending the night in the depths of the castle's dungeons. He knew what was to be found in those dark cells: the sounds of torture and the smell of death. If it was enough to unnerve a battle-hardened man like him, he feared what it would do to someone like Mina.

"Now, now, My King," Cersei spoke. Sandor begged for her to be the voice of reason in regards to the girl's punishment, but somehow he knew she wouldn't grant him that. "The poor girl has had a rather trying day. I imagine she's simply dying to go back to her chambers and just forget all about today." A wicked smile crossed Cersei's face "And we've kept it all just how you left it."

Sandor watched the look of fear wash over the girl as the new king nodded at his mother's plan. "Of course you're right, dear mother. That's entirely more suitable for Lady Mina." The boy's tone soured as he whipped his head towards Sandor, "Dog, return to your barracks and find a guard to watch the girl. We don't want to lose our guest again."

"I'll do it." The immediate sound of Sandor's own voice surprised him, "I'll stand guard tonight." The king opened his mouth to suggest otherwise, but Sandor continued, "The other guards are already on watch or sleeping and I'm neither." Sandor could feel the suspicious eyes of the queen on him, but she said nothing, just nodded at her son.

"Fine, just for tonight then," the little king barked, "but make sure she stays in her chambers. I'll send another guard to relieve you at dawn to resume your regular duties."

Sandor walked to the girl and grabbed her by the arm as the king made arrangements to reward Slynt and his men. She was icy to touch; he could feel her slight trembling from the cold. He longed to help her, but couldn't now. He tried to look cruel in the way he walked down the long hall of the throne room with Mina, but it was impossible. He couldn't bear to hurt her more than she'd already suffered. He hoped the king and his mother would be too busy to notice.

As they exited the throne room into the dark empty courtyard, Sandor allowed his grip to loosen on the girls arm. He felt her body relax some of its rigidness. She turned up to him to speak, but he shook his head. "Not here. Too many eyes, even in the dark." Even though he couldn't seem them, he knew where they were. Posted at every possible exit from the keep, and more circling around the top of the red walls for good measure. Escape would no longer be a possibility for Mina.

The girl obeyed Sandor's command for silence as he led her to the tower she once shared with her family and some of their guard. Now of course, it was empty, with most of the northerners being slaughtered in her absence.

When they reached the tower, Sandor nodded his head to the man who stood on guard, "The Stark girl returned. The king ordered she be kept in here for the night."

The guard looked over the girl, "Aye, well she must have really pissed off the king for him to send her in there with the likes of you…"

Sandor glared at the man as he pushed the girl through the door and up the first flight of stairs. The bodies had been removed, but the abandoned tower still reeked from the death and carnage that had occurred there some hours ago; the blood had been left to dry, the caked remains clearly marking the spots where men had fallen. The moonlight through the windows illuminated the girl's face, making her terror clear for him to see.

"It's alright Mina. I'm here," he whispered.

As they reached the landing of the next floor, the girl collapsed to the ground. "I don't want to see it, Sandor." Tears started to form in her eyes, "I don't want to climb up there and see that poor boy's body again. To look at his face and tell him he died for nothing…"

Sandor knelt down next to Mina on the floor, and pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. It was still wet, and her skin was ice cold. She leaned in close to him, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I wish he'd sent me to the dungeons…" She whispered, "I'd sooner sleep there than have to see this again."

Sandor wrapped his arms around the girl, and pulled her protectively into his chest, "You were on the boat, Mina. You were safe—I saw you." He stopped for a moment, reminding himself to keep his voice low, "What happened? Why in the seven hells did you come back here?"

Mina nuzzled her head against Sandor's chest. She thought for a while, before the words finally fell from her mouth "Because I belong here. I couldn't abandon my father and my sisters… My sisters!" The sudden realization caused her to speak louder than before. "They weren't on the boat, are they here? Are they safe?"

"Sansa is, they're keeping her in the holdfast near the royal family's apartments. But not the little one, I'd hoped she was with you."

"Oh," the girl's voice fell. She pulled at the ragged fabric that remained of her gown, and squeezed some drips of water out. "There was another reason I came back," Mina said as she looked up into the man's eyes, "I couldn't leave you, Sandor. I meant what I said earlier you know, truly."

Sandor pulled the girl in closer as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair. The smell of the ocean enveloped him. "You're a fool, Mina," he said as he tried to hide a smile. "An absolute fool." She'd put herself in mortal danger. He wanted to be mad at her, but the anger wouldn't come.

"He's going to kill me, isn't he?" She asked.

"I don't know, Mina. I'll do all that I can to protect you, but…"

"But I'm back in the lion's den." The girl nodded to herself, "Even if I do die…" she stopped, as though realizing the true weight of the situation. "I couldn't just abandon this all. Not you and not them. If I left you all I'd be a coward. I'm a lot of things, but I won't be that."

The large man lifted the girl in his arms as he stood, she felt small in his arms. "Close your eyes," he whispered.

He made his way to the floor Mina once shared with her sisters. The hall that was once filled with life was now eerily abandoned. A large bloodstain marked the spot where Mina's guard had fallen, but someone had had the sense to remove his body; still, the stench of his death lingered.

Sandor used his shoulder to open the girl's chamber door, and then seal it shut behind him. The room still bore all the evidence that someone had raided it, but as he set her down on the bed, the girl didn't seem to mind. As he walked to close the second door, he saw her pick at his red shirt that she'd attempted to pack.

"A lot has changed since that night," she whispered.

"Aye, it has."

As Sandor returned to sit on the bed beside the girl, Mina leaned up to kiss him, first his good cheek, and then his scarred one. Finally she moved her mouth to his lips, as she worked her fingers through his hair. He could feel the way she pulled him closer towards her with every kiss, and he was powerless to stop it. Her clothes were still wet and cold, but she no longer seemed bothered by it.

She moved the attentions of her lips to his neck. Slowly, he could feel her fingers begin untying the lacing on his leather armour. "Mina, we shouldn't—" he tried to stop her, but he knew it was of no use. He wanted her terribly.

After the last of the lacing came untied, she moved herself away long enough to pull of the top of his armour and the plain shirt he wore below. The way she kissed down his scarred chest raised the hairs on his arm and caused a shiver down his spine. He'd never wanted anything so much as he wanted her in this moment, he ached to feel every part of her.

Mina left his chest, moving herself until her eyes were level with his once more. Her beautiful blue eyes never left his, but he could feel the way her legs slipped over until she straddled his torso. She held his face gently as she brought her lips to his once more, with each kiss being deeper than the last, he could tell she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Yet still, a part of him knew it was wrong.

"Mina," he said sternly as he held her shoulders away from himself "we shouldn't be doing this. We have to stop."

"You don't want me?" He could feel the way she recoiled slightly, pulling away as a look of sadness returned to her face.

He looked over the figure of the half naked girl in front of him. "Of course I do, but that's not the point. It's not right what if..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought out loud. If the girl became pregnant… he didn't want to think of what could happen to her or the child.

"What if what? I don't care what happens Sandor." She took a breath as she ran a hand through his hair. "I've undoubtedly made the most foolish choice of my life by coming back to this place. By the time the sun rises, and the King and his mother decide what they'll do with me, I'll likely never be free again. But if with my last bit of freedom I chose to be with you… no matter the consequences, I think I could be alright with that."

Mina lowered her head slightly towards Sandor, and this time he met her there. He could no longer keep himself away from her, as the feeling of being so wanted overcame him. His kisses began to match hers in force and intensity as he pulled at the lacing on the back of the girl's torn gown.

As the last of the lacing came loose, Sandor pulled the gown and the slip beneath it over her head and tossed it on the floor. The feeling of her bare chest against his and his hands roaming over her naked body caused his head to swim. He swiftly flipped her onto her back as he took a moment to catch his breath. The smile she gave him in that moment reminded him that all her words were true: she loved him.